


i just want to make sure you're all safe

by liesmith



Category: NoPixel, no pixel
Genre: M/M, That's it, also they're both their gangs attack puppies and they're tired and deserve love, peepoSad, that's the context, they own a depression apartment they cuddle in
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:22:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23320888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liesmith/pseuds/liesmith
Summary: sharing a depression apartment is a lot more fun when you can both be depressed together, not aloneorhe's been there for awhile. why didn't curtis say anything?
Relationships: curtis swoleroid/randy bullet
Kudos: 11





	i just want to make sure you're all safe

His car’s been parked there, Randy guesses, for at least a week. He drives by the apartment complex regularly, a habit to go out of his way, just to make sure it’s empty, but now’s different. It’s not like them to ask for the other to come, it just _happens_ , but something must be fucked up because Curtis has never spent more than a night or two here, and… alone. That’s what worries Randy. It’s not that Curtis is here, but Curtis has been here, several days, _alone_. He hoped by now Curtis would’ve shot him a text, a call, anything. Is it even in his place to initiate? To say, Hey Curtis, noticed you at the depression apartment lately, you good mate?

No. Randy can’t do that. They’re not kids or something. Curtis would tell him.

Right?

Still, the nagging gets him in his down time, turning his pistol over and over in his hands. Curtis would tell him to come. Curtis would ask for him. Curtis wouldn’t do any of that shit because they’re both fucking stupid. Randy’s not even sure the last time he told someone he cared about them; no way is he going to pull that vulnerable shit and tell someone he’s sad and to come hug him, and stupid ass Curtis is the same way.

Idiot. He should’ve been there days ago. He guesses now is as good a time as any; not like Curtis will be mad at him for it.

He parks neatly next to Curtis’ car, stepping out into the cool night air and looking up at their shared apartment. He feels… nervous. Randy hates that. He smooths back his hair a little, as if it isn’t already slightly fluffed from sweat and downtime, adjusts his jacket, and climbs the steps two at a time to get to their floor. He fidgets with his key ring, finding the shitty little silver key that says 206 on it, and stares up at their door.

Randy touches the knob and he gives it a small twist, surprised when the door swings open. Oh. Curtis really didn’t lock the door, huh? He thinks about yelling at the brunet as he steps inside, stopping when he feels a cold barrel against his temple.

“Curtis! Shit, man, it’s just me!”

“Randy,” Curtis breathes out the name, lowering the pistol as he looks at the man, brows furrowed together, “what are you doing here?”

“You’ve been here a few days, mate. What’s wrong?”

Curtis frowns. “Nothings wrong.”

“Okay, idiot,” Randy rolls his eye, “you know what the purpose of this place is.”

“For nobody to find your body when I kill you and dump you into the ocean.”

“Bro!” Randy laughs, slings an arm around Curtis’ neck and starts pulling him towards the ratty couch, one of the lovely furnishings they’ve added to this place, and flops down. Curtis, ungracefully, goes down with him, falling a little onto Randy as he does so. Only when Randy manages to maneuver Curtis in as close as possible, throwing a leg over his thighs and forcing Curtis in for the long haul, does he finally let go, patting Curtis’ chest.

“Was that so hard?”

“Yes,” Curtis monotones quietly, though Randy can see the tension leaving his body, the way he melts back into the cushions and how he tries to tuck his head under Randy’s chin, the position quite not right, but Randy still lifts his head for it anyways, squishes his cheek against the curls. Curtis makes a soft noise under him and gropes for a moment, finding purchase in Randy’s jacket, a hand fisted in the back and one snaking underneath the jacket, grabbing a fistful of the cloth of his shirt.

Hm. Curtis is needy, but this is kind of next level.

“... You wanna talk about it?”

“No,” Curtis answers quickly, body tensing for a moment, “no, I don’t.”

“You sure?”

“Randy.”

“Dropping it,” Randy agrees, though he’s not thrilled about it. He has a couple of hunches, but he can’t just start accusing people, or shooting them up, or whatever other idiot thing he wants to do to make Curtis happy, “... you been eating?”

“Why the twenty questions?”

Because I care about you, is what Randy absolutely wants to say. “I want to make sure you’re not gonna starve to death, you’re the only thing keeping that idiot gang of yours alive.”

Curtis tenses, again. “Saab’s better than me at shooting.”

Now, Randy knows he’s not the smartest cookie in the jar, not by a long shot, but he’d like to think he’s pretty good at reading people, and the way Curtis is talking, voice soft, cracking at the end. He’s not fucking stupid. Family is all Curtis has, and they’re leaving him in the dark again. Randy’s quiet for a moment, wondering how he can fix this. There really isn’t any way he can; he can’t like, go shoot up Lean street, go knock sense into Buddha or something. That’s just a death wish.

But what he can do is try to make Curtis forget about it.

He tilts Curtis’ face up instead, cups his cheeks in a squish, and kisses him. And yeah, maybe he could stop thinking with his other head, but Curtis responds under him, sitting up a little straighter, the hands on his clothes tightening even more. Curtis still feels tense under him like this and Randy bites his bottom lip instead, making Curtis pull away and glare at him, cheeks still squished.

“Play nice. I have to do business tomorrow.”

“Oh, jewelry store meeting?”

“Shut up,” Curtis laughs and pushes at Randy’s face, breaking free from the hold and leaning back against the crook of the couch, arm flung over the back of it and along the arm of it, “... you could do it elsewhere, though.”

Curtis is shirtless, well, has been shirtless, with soft joggers hung on his hips. If this was any other time, Randy could think of a million ways he can fuck the brunet in front of him, but for some reason, his mind fizzles at just looking at him. Randy often wonders how he got so lucky with who he’s chosen to keep around him in a tight, protective little circle. Curtis may technically be his enemy, but Randy wouldn’t trade him for anything in the world right now.

“... Curtis, you’re so lovely.”

“What?”

“You’re lovely,” Randy repeats, voice soft as he slides between the brunet’s legs, staring up at him with a wide eye, “you’re so lovely, Curtis, I-”

He’s cut off by Curtis’ hand, brows furrowed on the other as he looks at Randy, clearly confused. After he realizes Randy isn’t going to say anymore dumb shit, he lowers his hand, sighing out softly. “... Randy, speaking isn’t your strong point.”

His body burns. Randy looks away, feeling vulnerable now. “I’m… being serious.”

“I know. You shouldn’t waste it on me,” Curtis speaks soft, tilting his own head towards the ceiling, “... I missed you, Randy.”

“... Sorry, love,” Randy says softly, wrapping his arms around Curtis, laying his head on the brunet’s chest, “you know how it gets with them.”

Curtis laughs, a sort of sad sound. “Wish I could relate.”

Randy squeezes him. “You always have me. I promise.”

“... I know,” Curtis tilts his head forward, kissing the mess of brown on Randy’s head, “you’re just an idiot.”

“Hey!” But Randy’s laughing, pulling back to touch his forehead to Curtis’, noses bumping into each other, “you’re so fucking mean, man. What’d I do to you?”

“Ruined my life,” Curtis sighs dramatically, laying a hand over his chest, “just absolutely trashed it, like this shitty apartment.”

“Man, I come here, heart in my hands like that, and you do this to me?”

“What else did you come for? For me to be nice?” Curtis flicks Randy’s nose, giving him a gentle push, “get up, it’s late. I’m not sleeping on this fucking couch again, man, where did you find it?”

“Your mums house,” Randy pouts, obediently climbing off of Curtis to go to the bedroom, easily the smallest fucking room in his place. The bed takes up all the space for the most part, but really, Randy wouldn’t want it any other way. He just kicks off his sneakers, flopping onto the bed with a little bounce onto his stomach, arms under his head as his eye closes. Curtis follows after, turning lights off as he goes, and soon the bed dips with his weight. Randy lids his eye and rolls until his back hits something solid, and he curls a little tight against Curtis.

“... Get some sleep, baby.”

“You need it more than me,” Randy mumbles soft, reaching up to find a pillow and pulling it to his chest, hugging it tight, “night, Curtis.”

Curtis hums softly above him, a sweet sound that makes Randy give a little smile, settling into the mattress. It feels nice, sleeping next to a body like this. He should really try it more often instead of doing it alone, if he bothers to sleep at all.

When he wakes, it’s alone. Randy feels like he should’ve known that was going to happen, but it’s still a little frustrating. Curtis likes to run when he has problems, hence this dumbass apartment, but still. Randy hoped the brunet would have had the courtesy to not just kind of run off on him, of all people. He rolls onto his back and finds his phone in one of his pockets, squinting at it. A little after 2 A.M. and Randy just wants to roll back and curl up, try to fall back asleep, but the nagging pit in his stomach is telling him to check on Curtis.

He grunts to himself and rolls out of bed, rubbing an eye as he enters the hallway. The glow from the television illuminates it partly and Randy tries not to stumble over himself as he goes back to the living room, finding Curtis sat back on the couch like it’s nothing, flipping through infomercials.

“It’s late.”

Curtis pauses in his flipping, turning to look at Randy. “What? It’s after two. Why are you awake?”

“Why are _you_ awake?” Randy counters, walking around the couch to quietly deposit himself in Curtis’ lap, knees bracketing his thighs, “Curtis, what the hell is up with you?”

Hands settle at his waist, pushing up his shirt. “I told you, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Curtis,” Randy’s voice is soft, though his arms lift as Curtis pulls his shirt off and a mouth is on his collarbone, soft kisses bordering his tattoo, “you… shit, that’s it.”

Fuck. He feels a little dizzy already as Curtis gently sucks a mark onto his chest, hands tightening at his waist. Curtis is good at distracting him when Randy doesn’t want to think with his dick for once, but he can let it go as the hands at his waist go to his joggers, playing with the waistband, fingertips just gently pressed against his skin. Randy shivers as a soft puff of warm air hits one of his nipples, Curtis just gently kissing against him.

“... C-Curtis, come on,” Randy forgets all above their earlier conversation, hands still above his head, shirt wrapped around them, “baby, you wanna suck my dick?”

“No,” Curtis mumbles, looking up at Randy through his eyelashes, fuck why are they so long and pretty, just like him, “you can suck mine, though.”

Randy makes a noise in his throat, some sort of hungry sound, and he all too happily let’s Curtis ease him down to the floor, settled between his legs. He yanks his shirt off in the process, freeing up his hands as they settle at Curtis’ knee then climb to his thighs, finding the waistband to his sweats and pulling them down with no hesitation, feeling himself salivate as Curtis bounces free from his pants, not wearing any underwear.

Fuck. Randy swallows, eyes happily trailing over the length of him. They’re similar sizes and Curtis isn’t anything new, but it still makes Randy squeeze his thighs together as he sits pretty on his knees, hands against Curtis’ thigh as he leans forward, just pressing his mouth to Curtis’ tip and sucking soft at the spot where his tip meets the shaft, eyes drifting shut. He can feel Curtis’ thighs tense under his hands and purrs soft, drags his tongue along the ling of Curtis’ shaft before Randy wraps his lips around his head, sucking just gently. Undoing Curtis is his favorite pastime, but Randy doesn’t know if he can really focus long enough to do it. Still, when Curtis’ hand settles into his hair, mussed from sleep, Randy happily takes more of him into his mouth, sucking again before starting to bob his head, a hand wrapping around the base of Curtis. He squeezes as he picks up speed, tongue pressed flat to Curtis’ shaft. The brunet exhales, a stuttery sound above him, hand tightening in his hair briefly before relaxing. Randy pulls back a little, a wet pop as he curls his tongue around Curtis’ tip, tongue pressing over his slit and licking soft at the precum dotted there.

Damn. Randy kinda missed this.

The hand in his hair pulls gently, and Randy licks at his shaft again before he sits up, meeting Curtis in a kiss, open mouthed and wet, one knee up on the couch. Curtis guides him back down into his lap, hands going back to Randy’s waist. Hands pull at his joggers and Randy lifts his hips, slightly, to let them be pulled down to his thighs, and Curtis works on his boxers next. Randy shivers as he’s freed, cock bobbing up against his stomach. Shit. He pulls back from the kiss, giving Curtis a quick one as he does so, and reaches down to curl his hand around both of them, hips pressing into the brunet’s. It’s not what Randy really wants, but he doesn’t have the capacity to open himself up and ride Curtis until they’re both aching for it. This feels just as good, Curtis wet and sliding up into his open fist, Randy shaking as Curtis’ hand joins his, the touch setting him on fire.

It’s easy to fall into a comfortable rhythm, sliding against Curtis and their fists, head rolling onto his shoulder. Curtis is leaning up and mouthing at his exposed neck, biting down onto the skin and sucking the spot with intent before moving on, squeezing around them and making Randy whine low. He’s a little frustrated, feeling how close he is, the way Curtis is teasing him, a thumb swiping over his tip, the squeezes driving him crazy.

It’s really unfair.

Randy arches his back, crying out soft as he cums, teeth digging into his bottom lip. Under him, Curtis shudders, letting out a whimpering sound as he pulses besides Randy. The brunet tries to catch his breath, trying to slump forward onto Curtis, who happily wraps an arm around Randy and nuzzles against the crook of his neck, giving the skin a soft kiss. Randy hums happily against him, melting further into the body under him. Hands creep to his ass and Randy lifts his hips in obedience, feeling Curtis spread him with one hand as the other, wet from spit and cum, presses fingers against him. He’s just rubbing for now, slow circles that make Randy shiver, but it’s enough to make his cock give a few half-hearted twitches.

Curtis is careful as he presses a finger into Randy, teasing another against his rim. Randy exhales out, cheek squished against the curls of Curtis’ hair as he tilts his hips back, just a little, giving Curtis the okay for more. He takes it, second finger pushing in and spreading deep inside of Randy, just thrusting them slow, fingers just teasing over his spot. Fucker. Randy doesn’t mind, panting soft as he’s fingered back to hardness, cock twitching. Curtis is back to mouthing at his collarbone, fingers deep as he purposely now focuses on Randy’s prostate. Randy trembles, glad he’s slumped onto Curtis as his hips push back, eager for it, panting against Curtis’ ear, a hand gripped around Curtis’ forearm. He’s close again from the relentless rubbing, squeezing on and off around the fingers inside of him and Curtis purrs soft against the bob in his throat, makes Randy shiver from the feeling. Shit. Curtis knows how to hit all his buttons, even ones Randy didn’t realize he had.

Even though he knows it’s coming, his orgasm still makes him whimper out, hand gripping tighter onto the brunet under him as Randy’s hips give a little buck, spurting between them. Curtis rubs his spot through his orgasm and a little after, exhaling out at the little shivers of aftershock that rock through Randy.

“... Je _sus_ , Curtis…”

“I love you,” Curtis says, voice barely audible as he looks up at Randy, fucked out on top of him, “you… you’re lovely, Randy.”

Randy looks dumb struck, staring at Curtis before giving a laugh, exhausted. “... Don’t waste that on me.”

Curtis just wraps both arms now tight around Randy, face against his chest. Randy has enough mind to do the same to Curtis, nuzzling into his curls, eyes drifting shut. He knows, deep down, he can’t fix this, but with Curtis so warm under him, clearly content and distracted, Randy figures he can get pretty close.

**Author's Note:**

> attack puppies attack puppies attack puppies kissing each other holdign each others hands being sad kissing


End file.
